The Red Haired Weasel and the Amazing Bouncing Ferret

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Ginny Weasley

November 8th 10:53 p.m.

And thus ends the longest night of my entire existence.

Everything began fine. Gryffindor had beaten Hufflepuff at Quidditch earlier, and I was given a congratulatory kiss by Draco. But upon seeing a couple of people from my own house, we departed quickly, and agreed to meet in the Room of Requirement at 9 p.m.

…Which would be when things started going downhill.

I raced up to the Gryffindor Common Room, taking the stairs two at a time, biting back the telltale smile dancing across my lips. The day, I had decided, was off to a very good start.

Just goes to show what I know.

Anyway, I practically *threw* the password at the Fat Lady (“Bezoar!”) and raced inside.

…And was promptly halted by a familiar and amused voice calling, “Hey, Gin, where’s the fire?”

Inwardly I winced. Of course, I hadn’t been under the impression that the Common Room might be empty, but it would have been nice. However, instead, I found myself staring into the bright green eyes of Harry Potter, and watched by the other students sitting around the room.

“I just…” I fumbled for a lie, ignoring the guilt tearing my heart. I spotted the candy that was being dished out in celebration, and answered with the first thing that came to mind. “I wanted to make sure I got my share of the food.” To prove my (fake) point, I reached for some sugar quills and slid one into my mouth.

Harry nodded, his trust reflecting in his smile. “When you’ve had your fill, do you think I could talk to you?” he asked.

I glanced surreptitiously at the time and swallowed the sigh of frustration rising in my throat. “Well, I’m about done,” I said, ignoring his raised eyebrows. “What can I do for you?”

His faced automatically darkened, and for the first time, I could believe that this was the boy that had defeated the Dark Lord. Many a time. “I need to go talk to a teacher about something, and…” His voiced dropped to a whisper. “I would really appreciate it if you could come with me.” Pause. “This isn’t a conversation I’d like to have alone.”

He must have seen the inner conflict I was experiencing, for he hastened to add, “I know it’s an inconvenience, but it’d really mean a lot.”

“What about Ron or Hermione?” I tried not to think about the rudeness in my tone.

He licked his lips. “They’re, uh, busy.”

Busy.

Why did my brother have to choose *this* moment to have a good snog with his girlfriend?

I crumbled. Of course I did. But don’t start thinking that it was some residue of romantic feeling I was hiding. No, it was the knowledge that there was no way I could get out of this without raising suspicion. Besides, Harry’s my friend and I care about him. And when a friend tells you that they need you, you step up to the occasion.

“Sure, Harry,” I agreed, hoping that Draco would understand.

He visibly relaxed, and I found myself wondering just what had him so torn up that he had to talk about it right away, instead of waiting for Ron or Hermione to be available.

I soon found out.

When I realized we were making our way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office, I glanced at my friend. What business could Harry possibly have with Professor Kindred?

He knocked politely, and then swung the door open as we were permitted entry.

Professor Kindred sat at her desk, poring over the previous night’s homework assignments, grading them in quick succession.

When she saw Harry and I standing before her, she gave an encouraging grin. “What can I do for you two this evening? I would have guessed that you’d be out celebrating. Need some help with this evening’s assignment?”

I didn’t answer. This conversation wasn’t really for me.

Harry shook his head slowly. “We’re not here for extra help, Professor.”

Her smile wavered slightly as she took her glasses off her face and laid them on the desk. The bright blue eyes that she stared up at Harry with seemed to convey understanding.

“I see.”

There was a long silence as Harry seemed to fight for words. “I need to talk to you about my dad.”

Professor Kindred stood, and walked to the window. “Harry,” she said softly, “you’re asking the wrong person. I didn’t really know James that well. You should really be talking to Remus for-”

He cut her off sharply. “I can’t talk to him, Professor. He was my father’s friend and I need someone that won’t be biased.”

She shifted, but didn’t answer.

“I know you dated Professor Lupin.”

At this *I* glanced up. Kindred and Lupin? The lives of the teachers at Hogwarts keep getting more and more interesting. Just the other day Draco was telling me he is *convinced* that Snape and Sinistra are together. But I digress.

She coughed. “Yes, I did.”

“Then you did *know* my father.”

Another cough. “I suppose I did, sort of. But Harry, you need to understand, my relationship with Remus ended in our 5th year. After that, I really didn’t have any communication with the Marauders.”

He seemed surprised at this comment, but didn’t respond. “I need to ask you a question about my father in his 5th year.”

Kindred shifted and I wondered if she knew what was coming. Because, frankly, I had no idea.

He started slowly. “A couple of years ago, in my 5th year, Snape was teaching me Occlumency, and one day he stepped out. And I happened to see his Pensieve and . . . I had a peek.” Seeing the expression on our teacher’s face, he rushed ahead. “I’m not proud of it. It was just… Something I did. Anyway, I looked inside, and there was memory that he’d had. Of *his* 5th year. And it had my dad. They were taking an O.W.L. and they went outside…” His voice trailed away, and Kindred spoke up.

“I remember.” Her voice was very soft.

Pain was very clear on Harry’s face as he turned to me to explain.

“My dad… He was acting like Malfoy.” At the mention of the familiar name, a blush crept up my cheeks, though, luckily, unnoticed. “He was torturing Snape, bullying him. Just because Sirius was bored.”

A shiver crawled up my spine. James Potter? Like Draco Malfoy?

A surprise at every turn.

Kindred sighed deeply, drawing back our attention. “Harry, first of all, you should know, your father was a wonderful man.”

He nodded.

She sighed again and returned to her chair. “He loved you and your mother *so deeply.* There just aren’t words for that kind of love.”

“I mean no disrespect, Professor, but I know all that.” His voice was strong, but shook slightly with impatience. “But I just need to hear… What he was like *then.*”

“Have a seat.”

He and I did as requested.

“When I met your father,” she began, her eyes meeting his, “I was in my 4th year. Ravenclaw, in case you’re wondering. Anyway, Remus and I started spending a lot of time together, and we became friends. It was hard not to be friends with that man. He had a great deal of karma, the kind that made you just want to be around him all the time. He told me when we started dating about being a werewolf, and I can honestly say it didn’t bother me. I knew we would figure out a way around it if our relationship should get serious. In fact, all things considered, he and I had a wonderful relationship. But the only problem was… Well, it was his friends.”

She wasn’t looking at Harry.

“Peter had always disturbed me a little bit. The kind to stand in the shadow of the other three, he was. And Sirius… Well, I expect you both know about his family?”

We nodded.

“He was having such a hard time in those days. Trying to get himself sorted out. With a mother like his, who needs Death Eaters, right? So it was to be expected that his morals were a little, uh, lacking.”

This already didn’t sound good.

“But James… That kid had *everything.*” She looked so sad, I could have sworn the room drooped in unhappiness as well. “And of course, when you’re that age, having everything does nothing but taint your view of the world. Makes you see everything in black and white. And Snape, Merlin help him, was very much in the black area.” She shook her head. “Severus…. You kids couldn’t really know how he was. He was so… Mean. Outright mean.”

Pursing her lips, she seemed to be wrestling with how much to tell us. “He would insult anyone that didn’t meet his standard of perfection. He called Lily all kinds of names, and even if she never said anything, we all knew it hurt her. James especially, could tell. Even then, it was hard to miss the fact that he was crazy about your mom,” she told Harry. “It drove him mad to see her in pain. And that day… It’s hard to forget. I think Remus, even though he didn’t say it, was shocked at the cruel streak James had shown.”

Harry was beginning to look sickened, and I doubted that he had made the right decision by talking to her. Until she added, “But it wasn’t entirely unprovoked.”

He looked up hopefully.

“Severus isn’t the same man he used to be either,” she continued. “Like I’ve said, he was so mean. And he could be heartless.“

“Oh, yeah, right,” I snapped, “he’s not like that at *all* these days.”

It seemed, for a second, as though she might smile, but instead she continued. “Well, he was at his worst this particular day. He had just gotten into a shouting match with Auriga Sinistra-” And odd expression danced across her features, and then scattered away. “Not that different from these days, to be frank. Anyway, he was on the war path. Anyone watching could see that he was positively furious. So it was really my own fault.”

“Your own fault?” This time it was me that had spoken.

She winced. “I… Well… He cursed me.”

Cursed her?! If I thought I hated him before…

She must have seen the looks of rage dawning in our eyes as she continued quickly. “You kids *must remember* above all else, people change. Yes, he cursed me, because I was goading him. I was-and am-Auriga’s friend. I was picking on him for some stupid things, and he cursed me... and shouted at Lily when she tried to come and help. James, Remus…. They missed the entire thing. And when they heard, of course, it was too late. Curses can’t just be lifted by other wizards, you know-”

Suspicion tugged at my senses.

“What was it?”

She shrugged, clearly in an effort to make it seem like no big deal. “Just a Mal Amoura.”

I blinked as Harry turned to me. “What’s a ‘Mal Amoura?’”

“It means that he made it so I was unable to be loved.” She answered with a sadness that seemed to engulf her.

Harry stared.

“That’s why you and Professor Lupin broke up?” I ventured.

“That’s why.”

She cleared her throat, then continued. “It’s an easy enough curse to identify, but it can’t be helped. It has to be lifted by the person who cast it, completely of their own free will. The wizard can’t have been threatened into it or anything. It’s been quite the inconvenience in my adult years, but he did lift it. About a year ago.”

She didn’t say it, but the sentence hung in the air. ‘And by that time, Remus was long gone.’

“Anyway, all four of them found out, but Remus didn’t - couldn’t care. He was the one that I had been dating, after all; the one that I’d fallen in love with. His feelings evaporated, and he did nothing. But James... He was so angry. After all, all things considered, Severus had essentially snatched his friend’s girlfriend away. And he acted on his impulses.”

She slid her glasses back onto her face. “Listen to me. Things are not always as they seem. And, as James learned, they are not always black and white. You can’t make a judgment on someone’s character unless you completely understand them. We all grew up. Severus became a respected Potions Master and, believe it or not, he and I settled our differences. James married Lily, and as for me-” She gestured to her desk with fondness. “I have the job Severus wants. What more could I ask for?”

I chanced a glance at Harry and exhaled the breath I had been unaware I was holding. He looked okay. Better, in fact. He could accept her story and let go whatever anger he may have been feeling for his father.

And me? I was still trying to grasp that Draco had been compared to Harry’s father.

We left the room, and I rested my eyes on Harry.

“You all right?”

He nodded.

As we approached the Common Room, I went to make a hasty exit but was halted when Harry rested a hand on my arm.

“Ginny, I know this whole thing must have been kind of weird for you,” he said, “but I really appreciate you coming along. If Professor Kindred had said that my father was his generation’s Draco Malfoy, I just wanted someone to be there to pick me up off the floor when I passed out.”

I grinned, pretending not to feel my insides freeze at the insult of my boyfriend. “No problem. But I‘ve really got to go.” He nodded, and I turned, and raced for the Room of Requirement, over an hour late for my date with Draco.

And that boy gets *scary* when he’s mad.

“You’re late,” he snapped, as I cautiously shut the door behind me.

I frowned at his tone, but explained. “I’m sorry. Harry asked me to help him with something-”

“Potter?!” His incredulous exclamation cut me off. “You blew me off to spend the evening with POTTER?!?!”

Clearly, this was not going to go as well as I had previously surmised.

“What did you *want* me to do, Draco?” I hissed. “He needed me! I’m his friend and I couldn’t just let him suffer alone.”

“Cause heaven forbid you leave the infamous Potter to sort out his own mess to spend time with *me.*”

“And besides, even if I *had* decided to say no, he would have known something was up, and probably asked me all sorts of uncomfortable questions.”

“Perhaps if you’d had the presence of mind to *lie!*”

“Well, gee, I’m sorry. I’m not quite as able with lies as my Death-Eater-Boyfriend.”

His eyes flashed dangerously and regret immediately followed.

‘Was that out loud?’ I wondered silently.

He glared at me for a full minute before he answered, his voice trembling with anger. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear,” he said. “You don’t understand me, or my family. So why don’t you back off and leave me alone?”

Ignoring the painful crush of my heart, I met his eyes and snapped in return, “Nobody asked you to *beg* me to date you, Malfoy.”

He muttered something under his breath and then said, “Nobody forced you to go out with me, either, Weasel.”

“Maybe I was just terrified of what you’d do if I said no.”

I am rather surprised that thunder wasn’t crackling in the room, as furious as we both were.

“Get out,” he commanded. His face was red, and his fists were clenched, and he was clearly making an effort to avoid hexing me.

“This is my room as much as it is yours.”

I wasn’t going to make it easy for him. Too many people, I decided, had let that kid have all he wanted.

“Get out, Weasel, or I cannot be responsible for what I do.”

“How is that any different from normal, Ferret Boy?”

With that, he swept past me, and out, slamming the door behind him. Frustration and grief overcame me, and I broke down right then and there, falling unceremoniously onto the couch. And when I looked up, there, on a nearby table, rested a large box of tissues.

So now I’m in bed. Six people have approached me and asked why I look so glum since my argument with Malfoy, and to each I have said the same thing, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

But I couldn’t overlook the comprehension on Hermione’s face as I spouted to her my rehearsed words.

I’m going to sleep. Maybe I’ll wake up and the day won’t have started yet.

And maybe I won’t have let my temper destroy the one perfect thing in my life.